


A Runaway, a Slave, a Hunter, and a Mutant

by ThatKnightOfHeart



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternia, Alternian Revolution, Ancestor-Era (Homestuck), Ancestors, Canon Universe, Condesce is Terrible, Feels, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Revolution, We All Know What's Coming, quadrants, story of the signless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-07-09
Packaged: 2018-09-18 12:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9384287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatKnightOfHeart/pseuds/ThatKnightOfHeart
Summary: Through the history of Alternia, the story of The Signless is told. He was a powerful man, full of hope and wisdom, who helped his lead his world to revolution. The story never tells of the trials and tribulations it took to become the man he was. It never explains how he came to meet his best friend, or even his lover. It never spells out how he found the courage to stand for what he believed.This is the complete story of The Signless, his companions, and a revolution that changed Alternia.





	1. Blood and Dreams

_Her soft, deep olive eyes shone brightly under the Alternian moons. He could describe no creature that matched her beauty, and yet he had no idea of her name. He sensed familiarity, and a sense of love. Her hands slipped from his, leaving his fingers cold and numb without her warmth, and made their way to his face. He smiled as she did, and she returned the gesture. Whoever she was, he loved her, and she seemingly loved him too._

_As quickly as her smile came, it was replaced by a fearful frown. Tears welled in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks like raindrops. Her clothes were torn, along with his. His hands were no longer searching for her warmth. They lay above him, stretched between the iron chain. They burned from the heat of the scorched metal, and when he moved to help her, they only tore at the bloodied rings around his wrists. She called out to him, apologizing through sobs. What should she apologize for? She had done nothing. He scanned the crowd behind her, searching for a familiar face. When his eyes settled on his mother, he wished he hadn’t looked. There she stood, chains and highblood guards keeping her on her feet and facing him. She tried to run toward him. She tried to turn away. She tried to help. As a highblood pulled the woman before him away as an arrow pierced his side, his mother screamed._

His screams molded with hers as he shot up, tears staining his small, round cheeks. The sun was still bright in the sky as it peeked through rips in the tent’s fabric. The candy-red blooded troll wiped the tears away, but they didn’t cease. Sobs wracked the young troll’s body. He cried and cried, even when the most familiar arms in the universe engulfed him. 

“There, there, my child. It was only a dream.” The jade runaway pulled her son close, pressing kisses into the child’s hair. He was known to have nightmares, and they were typically atrocious. She had learned to hold him close, bring him comfort, and let the aftermath of the horrors subside. He was still young, hardly even four sweeps. He still curled close to her in fear, and still tugged on her skirt when he needed help. He was still only a grub to her, but faced nothing but terror since the moment he opened his eyes. 

“It was the same place again. There was the crowd, and the highbloods, and you were in chains, and… and…” He trailed off, and his mother only nodded. His dreams had very few locations; most of them were placed at a sort of execution ground, a forest, or a small town. They never ventured far from their plot either. They always followed her son as he preached a sermon of sorts, and was eventually caught by highbloods. 

“I know, Kankri. But look at me, child.” She pulled the boy away from her chest and lifted his chin to gaze directly into her eyes. “I am alive, fine, and well. I am not captured, and neither are you. We are safe.” She smiled softly, and Kankri couldn’t help but mirror it. 

“Thank you, momma.” 

\---------------------

When the moons rose over the hills, Kankri and his mother pulled themselves from their tent to help with a few of the camp’s nightly chores. They had only been staying with this group a few weeks, and since then, he had grown to know quite a few of the trolls in the so-called clan. There were various lowbloods and a few scattered, broken highbloods. 

No matter their blood color, however, everyone participated in nightly chores. 

There were very few children in the camp, but the few that were there were usually too young to do any major chores on their own, so they followed around after the older trolls or tended to the fire. The youngest ones were the only ones exempt from chores, and they only toddled around under the somewhat watchful eye of one of the older trolls. Kankri was one of the older ones. He followed around after some of the men to help collect firewood, fix traps, and do some light hunting every other day. This day was a hunting day. 

Kankri slung his sickle (A gift from a group leader a couple of sweeps back) onto his shoulder and followed closely behind the group of men headed towards the woods. His mother, Porrim (Who had been given the title 'The Dolorosa' by the other runaways), waved him off as she propped another child onto her hip. He waved back happily, excited to be going out for once. They usually didn’t bring along anyone under six sweeps for the bigger hunting trips, but they thought that Kankri had enough experience to be useful. He trotted after the group, keeping his feet quiet and light. 

Through his whole life, they had traveled from place to place. Porrim kept them from lowblood camps as often as she could in the beginning. Highbloods were known to raid camps rather often, and if they were to find a jade blood outside of the caverns with a grub, they would have both been culled without hesitation. Once Kankri pupated and could run if need be, she would stay a few nights at some camps. She made connections through a series of webs, and began to ask for certain people when they found a camp. If there were no acquaintances she recognized, she kept Kankri far away. There had only been one raid while they were at a camp. Kankri was too young to remember, and Porrim refused to tell him about it. The entire camp had been obliterated. Whenever Kankri asked about it, Porrim simply teared up and ushered him on to some other chore. 

Now, as leaves and twigs crunched softly under his boots, Kankri pondered why they had to run. He knew that his blood color was unusual, and that in this world unusual was bad, but why did that mean he had to hide it? Why did any of them hide it? Most trolls that Kankri saw in the markets wore their blood color proudly in some form on their garments. Even his mother wore a long black and jade dress that moved freely when she walked. “Our uniforms were made to move in,” she would tell him as she combed through his mess of curls. “We had to be able to chase grubs like you around.” With that, he would smile as she spilled into more stories of his childhood and her time in the caverns. However proud she was of her blood color, though, the trolls in all of the camps they went to always covered their blood color. The children all wore bland colors, along with the adults. The only defining feature of anyone’s blood color was their eyes, which changed as they grew older. It started with only a few flecks peeking through, like melting snow. By the time they reached about eight sweeps, their eyes shined with their color. Some of the elders, though, had found ways to even hide that. 

Even Kankri’s tunic was solid black. There were patches here and there, but they were always grey or black. His mother was an excellent seamstress, but with little money and hardly any access to getting any more, fabric was hard to come across. Even if he wanted to wear his blood color, which was a death sentence in itself, there would be no fabric of such intensity. They would have to dye it with his blood, and never in a million years would Porrim agree to that. 

Personally, neither would Kankri. 

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of a low growl behind him. He froze in his tracks, not noticing until then that he had fallen way behind the group. The hair on his neck stood on end as he heard footsteps growing closer to him. He lifted his hand to reach for his sickle, but as soon as his fingers grazed the handle, he was knocked to the ground. He felt something settle on his back, pinning him to the ground. He fought to stand, but whatever beast had caught him kept its grip firm on his shoulders. He felt the sickle leave his back. _No!_ He thought as it was tossed to his side. He tried to roll over, to reach out, to flip the beast off, but nothing worked. This beast was strong, stronger than any other he had encountered. The beast pushed his head down, and he felt hot breath against his neck. 

“Don’t move,” the beast hissed. 

No, not a beast. 

A troll. 

Kankri froze and he glanced up, opening his mouth to say something. Before he could get a word out, the troll flipped him over, pinning his wrists to his sides with their knees and shoving a hand over his mouth. The troll was skilled, that much Kankri could say. That didn’t stop him from struggling to kick the troll off. His legs thrashed frantically, trying to gain some sort of ground to thrust whoever this was off of him. After a few attempts, he slumped against the ground, his breathing heavy. He looked up at his attacker, trying to figure out if they were a soldier, or maybe just one of the camp kids playing a prank on him. He scanned their face, stopping on their eyes. 

His breath caught in his throat. He felt his heart stop, and his blood ran cold. His entire body ceased to move, and every thought of running flew from his mind. 

They were not a highblood guard. 

They were not from the camp. 

_Her soft, deep olive eyes shone brightly under the Alternian moons._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those of you who have been waiting since the publishing of She Hears Horrors, I'm really sorry. I hit a major writer's block for months, and out of the blue was finally able to get out of it. And of course, my first concern was writing fanfiction. To those of you who are new, hello! Either way, I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of my first series. I'm going to come up with a posting schedule soon, but I solemnly swear that I will post at least once a week, if not twice, until I can get into the swing of things. I have high hopes for this story, and I hope you do, too! Suggestions and helpful criticism are always welcome and appreciated! The next chapter will be up soon, so until then, thanks for reading! ~M


	2. Olive Eyes

Kankri dreamed more than most. His mother hardly ever dreamed, and when she did, they were almost always nightmares. She would awaken in the dead of night, panting and gasping as if she had been running from something. Sometimes she would cry, mumbling quiet apologies and whispering a name that Kankri didn’t recognize. Kankri tried his best to comfort her like she did for him; she always brushed him off. “I’m alright, sweetie,” she would say. Porrim was strong, he knew, but nightmares were scary. She always told him that nightmares were only the body’s way of getting rid of bad feelings, and to do so, his head would make up scary stories. Nightmares were scary, but they were only stories. Dreams and nightmares weren’t real. 

As he looked up at the troll above him, he realized otherwise. 

The air was cold and frigid around them, and leaves swirled in tiny cyclones out of the corner of Kankri’s eye. The dark season was on its way, so temperatures were dropping drastically. He could see the troll's -- the girl's -- breath roll from her lips in a puff of frantic air, which swirled into a tangible cloud once the cold and the warm mingled. He stared up in awe, taking in what he was seeing. Her eyes were the same as her’s. She looked younger, most definitely. She looked older than him, sure, but younger than in the dream. This _was_ her. She had to be. She had the same olive eyes with dark, diamond pupils. Her features were smaller, and instead of love or fear reflecting in her irises, there was a fire in her eyes that he couldn’t quite explain. It was almost anger, but with less of a burn. Her cheeks were hollow, and for such a strong girl, she was mostly bone. She looked emaciated. That was when it hit him. Anger wasn’t fueling her. She was _hungry_. 

“I don’t want to hurt mew.” Her voice was quiet and soft, but also very raspy, as if she hadn’t used it in a long while. Kankri moved his mouth against her hand, trying to show that he wanted to speak. The girl frowned and looked him over, as if she was contemplating it. She quickly shook her head and glared down at him. “I saw that group mew were with. Are mew with a camp?” Kankri nodded slowly, afraid of what she might do if he didn’t answer. Her face lit up, as if she had been hoping for that answer. He noticed this, and had the urge to smile back. As it tugged at his lips, her expression hardened. He lost the desire to smile. 

She looked around and leaned down to where their noses brushed. Kankri tried to recede, pressing his head into the dirt under him. She tilted her head and smirked. Maybe she could smell his fear. Can trolls smell fear? Maybe not, but she didn’t seem like a troll anyways. Surely, she was a beast in troll’s skin. She was stronger than any troll he had met in any of the camps. He was sure she could have taken down even the outcasted blue bloods, with their bulging muscles and hands that could crush a skull her size without batting an eye. He scanned her eyes, trying to figure out how this was the same girl. The girl he remembered, that he _knew_ , seemed soft and gentle. She seemed to love him. Her hands were small and caring. The girl above him was not soft. She was hardened by hunger and Gog knows what else. 

“I’m going to move my hand. If mew make a sound, I will end mew right here.” She pressed her hand to his throat, and he noticed just how sharp her nails were. They seemed to be filed to terrifyingly perfect claws. _That’s what she reminds me of_ , he thought. _She’s a meowbeast_. He nodded slightly, scared to move his head very much for fear of having his throat or cheeks ripped open. She hesitantly lifted her hand away, her eyes never leaving his, and grabbed the sickle that lay beside them. She held it tightly in her hand as a backup weapon, Kankri assumed, in case the claws were only for show. “Who are mew?” She rasped. 

He cleared his throat. “My name is Kankri. I mean you no harm, I promise.” 

“Who are the people you are with?” 

“They are all from the camp. We are on a hunting trip.” 

The girl squinted. “There’s more good meat out here. Trust me.” 

“Is that why you attacked me?” Kankri frowned. _What is this girl’s deal?_

“I thought… maybe… maybe you had some. That you were the people taking my kills.” Her hand tightened, and Kankri breathed in sharply. She seemed to notice and loosened up slightly. 

“I’m not quite sure. I haven’t been with this group very long. My mother and I just joined a few weeks ago.” 

“What’s a mother?” 

Kankri giggled and looked up at her, forgetting that most people didn’t know what a mother was. Most trolls had a lusus. Porrim explained to him when he was younger that there wasn’t a lusus for his “very unique and special” blood color. So, she became his lusus, and she didn’t regret it in the slightest. “It’s like a lusus, but instead of being a lusus, it’s a troll. She takes care of me.” 

The girl, unlike most, nodded. “But where is your lusus?” 

“At the camp.” 

She rolled her eyes. “No, I mean, your actual lusus.” 

“I haven’t got one.” 

“Me either.” The girl did a onceover, squinting at him. She seemed to be analyzing every part of him, and sighed when he tilted his head. “Well, not anymore.” 

Kankri looked her over once again. Her eyes had gone soft, and they looked a little watery. Was this girl, the one that was currently pinning him down with her bare hands and had claws to his neck, going to cry? She seemed to blink the tears away and looked back down at him. Fangs poked through her lips when she talked. Small freckles dusted her face, and her hair was an absolute mess. Leaves and twigs clung to the strands like ornaments, and it was more matted than any beast’s fur Kankri had encountered. She wasn’t wearing much of anything. There were fur skins draped over her chest, and a pair of thin leggings covering her legs. There were various bones on a string hanging around her neck, and her arms were covered in various sized scars. Where was this girl from? Porrim had always taught him to look nice when they went into town, and to make sure he kept himself clean. This girl, however, didn’t seem to care. She squinted again -- he wondered if she did that when she was thinking -- and whispered something under her breath that he couldn’t quite catch. He didn’t question it, and decided to ask a more important one. 

“Who are you?” 

“I…” She looked up sharply, her eyes going wide. Kankri opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but before he could utter a word, the girl was thrown off of him. Her claws caught on his throat, and he felt his skin shred. He cried out, but only partly from pain. His hand flew to his throat and he covered the wound quickly, already feeling blood. He sat up, coughing. The person who had pulled her off of him was only known in the camp as The Marauder. He was an olive blood, only a sweep older than Kankri, and was built smaller than him. He had been caught stealing from the camp when he was younger than Kankri, but after seeing that he was just a hungry kid, they took him in. He was sent every now and again to the market to see what he could collect. He was a perfect thief, and even if they didn’t entirely agree with it, it did help keep everyone fed. The girl was fighting hard against him, but his grip stayed strong. Others from the camp joined him, restraining the girl and her claws. She dropped the sickle, and someone else grabbed it. She screamed curses at them - her mouth was surprisingly dirty for someone that size - and they only yelled back. Kankri tried to shout over them, pushing himself up to his knees. 

“Stop! Don’t hurt her!” He pulled himself forward, tugging at the shirts of the crowd. He heard her cry out in pain and his eyes widened. He clenched his fist tightly and pressed the hand to his throat harder against the wound. _Don’t let them see the blood_. He inhaled, and screamed. “STOP!” 

The world fell silent around them. Birds flew from trees in masses, and even the wind seemed to hide. They all turned to look at him, their eyes wide with shock. The girl looked as well, tears running down her face. There was a gash on her side, and it seemed to already be bleeding heavily. Did his sickle do that? He looked around the group and glared. 

“Look what you’ve done to her! You hurt her!” His own wound forgotten, he pushed through the crowd to reach her. 

The Marauder spoke up. “Kankri, she was attacking you!” 

“She needed food! She thought I could help! You should understand mercy more than any of them!” The Marauder fell silent. Kankri looked around, his voice rising again. “Don’t just stand there! We have to get her back to the camp!” 

One of the older ones, a one-eyed teal blood, stepped forward. “We are not bringing her back with us. She is dangerous.” 

“She’s a child!” 

“She tried to kill you.” 

Kankri fumed, moving closer to him. “She was trying to find food! You mean to tell me that you’re going to leave a child in the woods with a serious injury that you gave her?” 

The teal blood glared. “I’ve killed before, boy.” 

Kankri looked between the teal blood and the girl. His neck throbbed, and he felt blood seeping through his fingers. He turned back to The Marauder and pulled the girl from his arms. He didn’t fight it. Kankri wrapped one arm around the girl, and she fell into him. He lifted his hand just slightly to pull the collar of his tunic up over the wound. He glared back at the group. “Then I’ll take her.” With that, he pulled the girl forward and walked back towards the camp. 

Every step was a struggle. The girl was holding a hand to her wound, and she was trying to help him help her, but she still struggled. Kankri’s tunic collar was soaked with blood, but through the black fabric you couldn’t tell the color. The adrenaline kept him going, and as long as he didn’t focus on it, he could ignore the pain. He pulled both of them to the camp’s edge. Porrim was sitting with her back to them, watching a couple of the younger trolls play marbles in the dirt. Kankri’s heart swelled when he saw her, and he took a final step towards her. 

“Momma…” The world spun as she turned to face him and then everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay, baby Disciple! Hopefully I can stick to this posting schedule. I'll try to post every Wednesday and Saturday and see how that works. I got really excited while writing this, so maybe I can carry that determination into the next few chapters! Until Wednesday, thanks for reading! ~M


	3. Once Upon A Dream

_Once upon a dream, there was no hierarchy. There were no lowbloods, midbloods, or highbloods. The caste did not exist, and anyone from burgundy to violet bloods lived together in peace._

Once upon a dream, there was no suffering. The Grand Highblood did not cull for sport. Mutants did not have to hide for fear of death if they were caught. Everyone lived by choice and will. 

Once upon a dream, Kankri did not run. He held the girl with the olive eyes’ hand proudly, raising their intertwined fingers to show the world that they were not afraid. His mother stood at his side, beaming over them. Another man, no older than he, stood behind him with his fist raised and a rallying cry flying from his lips. They lived for the fight of freedom. 

Once upon a dream, they lived. 

Kankri awoke in a cold sweat. The tent was warm, but not as welcoming as it should have been after waking from a nightmare. His hands shook at his sides, and the tremors moved from his fingertips to his shoulders, and then engulfed his body. He clenched his eyes shut and took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. His mother taught him that when he was young. “If I’m not around when you wake up, take a deep breath, count to ten, and then I’ll be there.” As he grew older, he started to find the concept silly. He did it anyways, and without fail, his mother always came to his side. He breathed in and counted in his head before sighing. On cue, Porrim poked her head through the tent flap. 

“Oh, thank Gog,” She said with a sigh. She crawled over to him and pulled him into her arms without much of a fight. Kankri was much too tired, and his neck hurt something terrible. He noticed a layer of bandages rubbing at his skin and groaned, remembering the events of the day before. Or, at least, he thought it was the day before. “I was starting to fear that you wouldn’t wake up. You and the girl lost a lot of blood. It was… a very gruesome sight.” He felt her shiver and wrapped his arms around her. 

“Where… is she…” His voice came out no louder than a whisper, and even then it croaked. Porrim pulled him away from her chest and looked down at him, frowning. 

“Does it hurt? I have some water.” She reached around him to grab a bowl of water that sat by his pillow and brought it up to his lips. He drank it down quickly, craving the cold texture against his throat. He gasped for air at the last drop, huffing as he looked back up at his mother. 

“Where is she?” His voice sounded better, but no more threatening. Porrim looked down at the bowl and sat it beside them. Kankri’s brow furrowed. It was definitely abnormal for his mother to keep anything from him. Whenever he asked a question, she always had an answer. No matter how hard it may be for him to hear, she believed that if he was old enough to ask, he was old enough to know. _‘What made this so different,’_ he wondered. Porrim’s eyes shifted uncomfortably for a long time before she cleared her throat. Her posture shifted, and Kankri knew what was to come. This was the stance she took when she was going to give him a lecture. 

“Who is she, Kankri?” 

Kankri sighed. _Here we go._ “She’s just a girl who was looking for food, mother.” 

“No, Kanny. Who is she?” She quirked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. Porrim hardly ever got cross with Kankri. The only other time he could remember truly getting in trouble with his mother was when he and another boy toddled off into the woods to try and track down a woofbeast. They didn’t find one, but none of the adults could find them either for two whole days. 

Kankri hesitated. He didn’t want to admit that the only reason he didn’t call for help was because he thought he could talk to her. He wanted to know who she was, and how their fates shifted at that moment for them to meet the way they did. But he knew that his mother would see right through him if he lied, and if he ever saw the girl again, he knew that it would come into the light. “She’s the girl from my dreams, mother. She’s the one with the olive eyes.” 

Porrim sighed. “Kankri, there’s no possible way that she is the same girl. Your dreams aren’t real.” 

“But they are! Dreams are real, and she’s real, too! I had a dream about her that night, and then she appeared out of nowhere! Mother, this has to mean something!” Every word felt like sandpaper in his throat, but he couldn’t stop. How could she not believe him? This girl was most definitely the same person. Sure, she wasn’t wearing the same clothes and she looked much younger, but in his dreams, everyone looked older. Even his mother, with all of her beauty and grace, looked a couple of sweeps older. She didn’t seem to change as drastically as he did, but that was to be expected due to their blood differences. 

“Kankri, this girl tried to kill you. She hurt you! Just because she looks similar to someone that your mind made up in your mind, that does not mean that you can just sit there and let her hurt you!” Porrim’s voice was rising, and when Kankri flinched, she lowered it. “Kanny, you have to understand that you cannot talk your way out of every situation. You could have walked out of that fight and ended up like…” She froze, and the unsettling warmth that filled the tent was sucked out and replaced by an eerie chill. 

“Like who, mother?” His voice returned to a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would fracture the ice that lay around them. 

“It’s unimportant-” 

“Like who?” His voice raised and cracked. Porrim’s expression hardened and clenched her teeth. Kankri knew he shouldn’t have yelled, but this wasn’t something she could keep from him. He had to know. 

“Like her, Kankri.” 

\-- 

There was frost on the ground. It froze his bare toes as he ran across the camp, checking in every corner and tent-alley. The cold air that burned his throat was the only thing keeping him from screaming. He looked high and low, inside and outside of every tent he could get into. The girl was nowhere to be found. What did they do with her? Did they throw her back into the woods with not even a cloth to cover her wound? Was she scared and alone? Was she… 

“Kankri?” 

The mutant froze. Warmth washed over him, thawing the blood that had run cold at his mother’s words. He turned to the noise, a wide grin plastered on his face. She was okay. She was okay. The girl with the olive eyes was okay. 

His smile didn’t last long. 

In some dreams, Kankri would find himself standing at the edge of a tall cliff. It overlooked all of Alternia. With its vast landscape and its monumental sky, it was a beautiful sight. The very thought of it brought a sense of hope to him, filling his entire being with warmth. After securing a good look of the sight before him, the stone beneath him would collapse every time without fail. This would send him spiralling down towards the ground beneath him. He always awoke with a loud gasp, his heart pounding in his chest. He never felt that feeling, of his heart dropping so low he felt it would stop beating, outside of a dream. That was until now, of course. 

The cage was small and built out of very weak wood. He was sure she could have broken out if she wanted to. He crouched near her, his eyes wide with horror, and looked her over. That’s why she hadn’t broken out. She looked weaker than the sticks that held her in there. She had pushed herself up on one elbow to see him, and she seemed to still be wasting away. They couldn’t have fed her much if they fed her at all. Bandages wrapped around her torso to protect her wound, and he was grateful for that much. She flashed a small smile at him, but even that looked empty. 

“No…” Kankri whispered with a frown. He looked the cage over and started to pull at the ropes holding the sticks together. He saw the girl frown and lay back down. He expected her to say that she had tried already or ask what he thought he was doing, but she did nothing. She simply laid there and let her eyes slip shut. He tugged off the last of the ropes and pushed the sticks away to pull her out. She let herself be dragged without complaint, and only made a small noise when he picked her up. It sounded like a meowbeast noise; it was nothing more than a simple ‘mew’. He pulled her close to his chest and stood, turning back to the camp. A group had gathered to watch them. No one stepped in to stop him as he walked past them, headed back to his tent. He noticed again how small she was, especially for such a strong hunter. Even in his weak state, she wasn’t any harder to carry than the smaller trolls in the camp. She groaned every few steps, and he tried to keep from bouncing her too much. He stepped through the tent and looked directly into Porrim’s eyes as he laid her down on his pallet. 

“Kanny, I…” 

“Can you hand me the water?” Kankri pulled the blanket up around the girl’s shoulders. He felt Porrim’s eyes on the back of his head as she handed him a canteen. He nodded in thanks and brought the canteen to the girl’s lips. She turned her head away and grumbled. “It’s water. You need it.” He pulled her face back towards him and pressed the water back to her. She took a small sip at first, but once she realized what it was, she practically tried to pull the canteen from Kankri’s hands. He pulled it away from her after a few gulps with a chuckle. “Slow down.” 

After a few more gulps, she laid back down. Kankri sat the canteen away from her and sat by her side until her breaths evened. He sighed with relief and slumped against her legs. Porrim shifted to her side and felt her head, nodding slightly. “No fever,” Kankri heard her mumble. He nodded slowly and looked up at his mother. She glanced over at him and smiled one of her signature smiles. He smiled back at her, moving to wrap his arms around her. She hugged him tightly and planted small kisses into his hair. 

“I’m sorry I snapped at you.” 

“No, Kanny. Don’t apologize for that.” She pulled him away from her chest and held his face in her hands. She scanned his face and brushed a few strands of hair away from his eyes. “You’re finding your voice. You’re standing up for what you believe. You were worried about this girl. From what I can tell, you had every right to be.” She frowned down at the girl and sighed. “I knew she was hurt. They told me that she was taken care of, and I figured that meant that they had patched her up and placed her under one of the healer’s care. I… assume that wasn’t the case.” 

Kankri shook his head. She wouldn’t stand for the conditions that he had found her in. He was almost happy that it was him that found her instead of Porrim. Who knows what she would have done to some of the village leaders. He decided not to tell her the details. 

Porrim looked back down at her son, a smile returning to her lips. “Kankri, listen to me. For as long as you live, don’t ever apologize for standing up for something. Find your battle and fight it - not with a weapon, but with your words. Stay true to yourself, no matter what this world may tell you. Do you understand me?” 

The memory of his last dream resurfaced, and Kankri smiled. He hugged his mother tightly and nodded against her chest. “I will, momma.” 

“Good… and Kankri?” 

“Yes, ma’am?” 

“Don’t ever run out of this tent without shoes again.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the late posting! I came down with a horrendous bug for the past couple days and couldn't physically pull myself out of bed to post anything (and I slept a lot whoops). So, here's chapter three! There will be a chapter on Saturday as well, and I hope to not fall off the schedule too much after this. Until next time, thanks for reading! ~M


	4. Mew Linn

Before every collapse, there is a moment of silence. Before the shaking begins, there is an eerie still. Before the fall, there is a flying sensation. 

Kankri hardly left the girl’s side in the following weeks. If she was awake, he was sitting up next to her. He kept her talking about anything and everything. This girl was more extraordinary than anyone Kankri had met in any camp. She had never lived in a camp. She had lived with her lusus up until a half-sweep ago when she was killed when their cave collapsed. The girl choked up talking about it, so Kankri didn’t press her for many details. He had only seen her cry when she had been stabbed - the teal blood finally admitted to it - and he wanted to keep those olive tears away from her cheeks if at all possible. So, he kept them talking about cheerful subjects. He wanted to know how she had lived without help, when she learned to hunt, and who she really was. 

“What?” she asked, adjusting herself. She was starting to be able to sit up without Kankri’s help, but he grabbed her arm instinctively anyways. She flicked his hand off. “Mew would think mew would know who I am. Mew did save me.” 

Kankri pushed a bowl of soup into the girl’s hand and she nodded in thanks. He settled down next to her and sipped at his own bowl. “I mean, who are you? What is your name?” 

“I haven’t got one.” 

Kankri coughed, the hot liquid getting caught in his throat. The girl’s eyes widened and she patted his back firmly until the coughing ceased, and he raised a hand to stop her. He straightened up and wiped his mouth, still sputtering softly. “What do you mean you don’t have a name?” 

The girl shrugged and she took a large swig of her soup. Kankri saw her smile slightly as it passed her lips. She sat the bowl down next to her and looked over at him. Underneath the terrifying mass that she called hair, light freckles dusted her face and framed her button nose. Her eyes were not yet as dark as he had dreamed, but she still seemed young. Olive flecks filled her iris, and a grey hue still shined through. The colors seemed to dance in a sort of ever changing pattern. Every day, there seemed to be more and more olive. Dirt covered her face and body along with the various pieces of trees that entangled themselves in her hair. This girl was definitely a mess. An interesting one, but a mess nonetheless. 

“I don’t have a name. I know everyone else has some sort of title, but I don’t.” 

“What did your lusus call you?” Kankri quirked an eyebrow. Surely she had a name. Who didn’t have a name? How did people get her attention? Then again, she had lived in a cave alone until now. He supposed she didn’t have much use for a name. However, he was still taken aback when the girl cleared her throat and let out the most terrifying roar that Kankri had ever heard. It was louder than any beasts’, and much more frightening. Kankri fell back, his bowl tumbling to the ground next to him. The girl stared at him wide-eyed for a split second before falling back in roaring laughter. Kankri stared at her, his mouth agape, as she rolled with fits of giggles and snorts. Her face turned olive and her freckles stood out even more against the faint color. Kankri simply stared in confusion until his mother burst into the tent, her eyes wide as she tried to assess what was going on. At her expression, Kankri fell into laughter along with the girl. Porrim just stared in shock at the two children in front of her. Eventually, once she realized there was no danger, she walked out muttering something about “kids these days.” 

Once they got to a point that they could speak between giggles, Kankri smiled at her. “As amazing of a name that is, you need one that rolls off the tongue. Something a little more… you.” 

“‘Something more mew…’” She puffed her cheeks and frowned, looking at her hands. Kankri snapped his fingers, and she jumped. 

“Mew! You say mew all time. It’s sounds like a meowbeast. You are a meowbeast.” He started giggling again. The girl tapped her chin and mocked his snap with a smile. 

“Mewbe!” She said with a grin, proud of her name choice. Kankri shrugged, his giggles subsiding. 

“Maybe… but it still sounds a little awkward.” He frowned with thought. “What else is there that reminds you of meowbeasts?” 

“Umm… scuttlebeasts, claws, nepeta …water? But… more of a hatred of water.” 

“Water? That could be… a river, an ocean… oh! I heard an elder once call a waterfall a linn.” He smiled over at her, his brain clicking words together. 

“What does that have to do with a name? Meowbeasts don’t like water!” 

“True, but what else could go with mew?” He turned away from her and reached into a satchel at the end of the pallet. He pulled out a stick of graphite and a writing pad, placing it on the ground between them. He wrote out ‘mew’ and ‘linn’, lining them up next to each other. The girl shook her head and pulled the pad away from him. She stared down at the letters, frowning. It quickly occurred to him that she most likely had no idea what was written. If she was raised by her lusus and hardly had any outside connection, why would she know how to read or write? She had mentioned that the only reason she could speak a lick was because of the things she overheard when she went hunting, or on occasion, scavenging. Kankri gently pulled the pad and frowned down at it. “It… looks awkward. Hold on!” He scratched out a couple of letters and drew over them, smiling as he handed it back to her. He pointed to each letter and said it’s name before looking directly at her. “Meulin. It says Meulin.” 

“Meulin… Mew… linn… Meulin! Meulin, Meulin, Meulin!” She giggled and clapped her hands. 

Kankri grinned and nodded firmly. “Meulin it is!” 

“Meulin! I am Meulin!” 

He smiled. “Meulin.” 

\-- 

“Meulin!” 

The camp was covered in an eerie orange glow as flames licked up every tent. The sound of the embers was smothered by the sounds of screams of terror and power. The highbloods had come quickly; there was no warning. Porrim was hastily shoving the satchel back onto Kankri’s shoulders as they ran. He shoved her hand away and turned back to the camp, scanning the fleeting faces for her’s. He caught a glimpse of a guard grabbing the teal blooded leader, and he turned before the pin made contact with his skull. As he turned, he caught a glimpse of olive and his heart swarmed. The Marauder sprinted towards them, Meulin clinging to his back. 

“Take her! Kankri, take her!” Marauder swung her off of him and into Kankri’s arms, pushing both of them towards Porrim. The next few seconds seemed to go in still frames. Kankri grabbed Meulin. The highblood grabbed the Marauder. Porrim grabbed Kankri and Meulin and pulled them away, her shouts sounding muffled as the two children watched in horror. The Marauder’s skull was mere putty in the guard’s hand, and collapsed just as easily. His screams were cut off abruptly as the guard’s hands were quickly covered in an olive coating. Kankri and Meulin’s screams replaced his as his limp body fell to the ground. The highblood busied himself with another fleeing lowblood, apparently not seeing much good in pursuing two children and a jadeblood. Kankri’s feet moved instinctively as he turned to dash off into the woods. The farther he ran, the louder his heart pounded in his ears. The farther he ran, the more the screams were covered. Meulin eventually crashed on his back, but he kept running. Porrim never tried to stop him. She jogged alongside him, jade tears rolling down her cheeks. He ran until the smoke was no longer visible in the sky. He ran until he couldn’t hear their screams. He ran until they were far from the danger and beyond the possibility of it. He knew deep in his heart, however, that they could not run from that danger. He could not run from highbloods that killed his friends because of their blood color. He could not run from the inequality in their world. He could not run from his own blood color forever. But, that night, he ran. 

He ran and he ran and he ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! I'm going to try to cut down to a once a week schedule. It will be much easier to manage. As always, comments and critiques are very much appreciated! If you have any headcanons about the ancestors that you would like to see in this story, I would absolutely love to hear those as well! Until next week, thanks for reading! ~M


	5. The Slave With the Spark

_As the scene unfolded before him, the world fell silent._

__

__

_Lowbloods walked in a straight line. Their feet were chained to the trolls in front and behind them. They varied in blood color, ranging from burgundy to olive. They all had different clothes. They all had different heights. They all had different scars. They all had the same pained look._

__

__

_One gold blood stood out, his lanky frame towering over the other children his age. Kankri stood from his hiding spot and moved towards him. His hand reached out instinctively to help the poor kid. He heard Porrim whisper-scream for him to come back, but he kept walking. The boy looked down at him, his bi-colored eyes scanning his face. Kankri tried to smile, but as soon as he did the boy pushed him away. Kankri jumped back, holding his hands up instinctively. The boy yelled and his eyes widened as he looked around. Sparks sizzled in the air around them. Highblood guards rushed over to see what the problem was. Porrim pulled Kankri back as a highblood pushed past them. The large figure grabbed the boy with the spark and pinned him down as another towered over them. The boy’s eyes brimmed with yellow as he fought against their grip. He locked eyes with Kankri through the twine and screamed._

__

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_“Help Me!”_

\-- 

After the raid, Porrim was even more protective of Kankri and Meulin. They kept from camps all together, and hardly ever stayed in one place more than two nights. She also fell into a habit of not sleeping. Sometimes, she would sew or make food that they could eat as they traveled. Most of the time, however, she simply sat and watched the sky. Kankri would sometimes stay up with her, but she eventually sent him back to sleep with a very noisy complaint from the mutant. She would hush him and tuck him with the promise that she would try to sleep. 

That was one of the only lies that the Dolorosa ever told. 

They all eventually fell into a pattern. They would wake up, eat, and then go about their nightly chores. Once Meulin’s side healed, she became the hunter of the group. She would go into the woods early in night and return a while later, multiple kills slung over her shoulder. Kankri would gather herbs and berries from around their camp for Porrim to cook with and dry for medicine. If time and resources allowed, he would sit for a while and work on weapons for Meulin and himself. He kept his sickles at his side at all times at that point, but Meulin carried nothing. She claimed that her claws were sharp enough, but as time went on he noticed that they were growing dull and chipping. He worked on a small knife for her to carry as she hunted just in case and a secret gift for her that he wouldn’t even let Porrim see. Porrim, however, didn’t mind. She had enough to handle at night. She worked on cleaning clothes, cooking food, making clothes, and keeping everything in order. The less sleep she got, Kankri noticed, the slower she went about her tasks. Nonetheless, before the moons set, she would always sit with the two children, sewing or cooking as they worked. 

Once Porrim realized that Meulin could neither read nor write, she started teaching again. When Kankri was young, she taught him how to properly speak and write along with some very basic arithmetic. Once they started staying at camps, she taught the younger children there. Kankri practiced writing every day, and continued when Meulin started learning. He would write simple poems or essays while Porrim taught. Once they were done, he would give them to Meulin for her to read. She would read them out loud back to him, and he would correct any mistakes she made. Sometimes the writings were funny. Other times, they had deeper meanings. He often wrote of the equality he dreamed of or simply the dreams that he had. Meulin read them no matter what, and always smiled at the end. She was so proud of herself for learning so quickly. Kankri was proud, too. 

One day, as Porrim was hunched over a fire, Meulin plopped herself down next to Kankri. She hummed softly as she looked down at the pad he was writing on and read what he had so far. He smiled and let her, finding that if he tried to hide his writings from her, she had enough strength to rip the tablet from him and run. And she would most definitely use that strength. On this night, she didn’t make an attempt to ask him about any of the words. He found this odd, as it was a more difficult text. This was a longer essay, and he tried to broaden his vocabulary so that she would learn something new. When he looked up at her, she had a blank stare on her face. He quirked an eyebrow and waved a hand in front of her face. He laughed as she snapped up, blinking at him. 

“Alternia to Meulin. Anyone there?” He smiled and tilted his head. Meulin’s face went green as she looked back at the text. She reached up and pointed at the tablet. 

“How come you don’t read these?” 

“Because I wrote them.” 

“No. Why don’t _you_ read it? Out loud?” Kankri frowned and looked down at her hand. 

“They’re for you to read. Not for me to,” Kankri said softly. Meulin huffed, irritated. Kankri shook his head and crossed his arms. Meulin looked at him and puffed her cheeks. 

“But if you read these to people, they would learn something.” She quirked an eyebrow. Kankri shrugged. In reality, they might. If he read this to a group of lowbloods, they would learn that they are worth more than they thought. If he read this to highblood guards, they would learn that he was out of his mind. 

“Who would I read it to? There’s no one here but you and Mother.” Meulin hummed again- in question this time- and shrugged. 

“I don’t know.” Kankri chuckled and went back to writing. Meulin slumped against the wall, sighing. Kankri could tell that she was thinking hard as she started kneading at her tunic. Porrim had made her a new suit to replace her old one. This one was a long sleeved tunic with black and olive leggings. She always pulled boots over them to keep any beasts from biting her feet. The tunic had started out in one piece, but over time, as she hunted and thought, the bottom hem had become a shredded mess. Porrim attempted to fix it a couple of times. She found that it was no use, and besides, it helped Meulin think. As she created another strip, Meulin jumped up. Kankri jumped as well, frightened by her sudden movement. She grabbed his hand and pulled him up beside her. Porrim quirked an eyebrow as Meulin tugged him towards a stump a few feet away from the tent. She patted the stump to gesture him to climb up. When he gave her a look of ‘Have you lost it?’, she rolled her eyes and helped him up. He obliged, still confused. Meulin nodded in approval and sat down on the ground in front of him. Kankri looked around and settled back on Meulin. She groaned, as if he was supposed to know what to do. 

“Read!” 

Kankri tilted his head, confused, until it clicked. His mouth made an ‘o’ as he smiled. “You want me to read the essay to you.” Meulin nodded her head slowly. Kankri chuckled and shrugged as he looked down at the tablet. He cleared his throat and straightened up. He saw Porrim turn to watch them and stood up even taller. This was going to be fun. 

“My friends, hear my cry. The time for action is now. We are no longer safe in this world of lies and punishment for things that we cannot control. Our siblings have been slaughtered and enslaved for bearing the burden of a low caste standing. We, as trolls of this planet, stand by and let it happen. We have stayed silent for too long! We cannot continue this battle with sewn lips! We cannot continue this battle with deaf ears! We must take action! We must stand together as one, and as a family! We cannot let each other fall. We must latch arms and stand together as a link to freedom. The pigment of your blood should not affect how you live. One day, I wish to see a gold blood stand at a seadweller’s side - not as a slave, but as a matesprit. One day, I wish to see a blue blood and an olive blood link hands in moirallegiance. One day, I wish to see a mutant shake hands with the Grand Highblood himself! 

“So, friends, if you can hear my plea, take action! Stand for what we fight for! Bring peace and equality to the highest mountains and lowest plains of Alternia!” He threw his fist into the air, his voice having risen steadily throughout his speech. The two girls in front of him stared wide-eyed and slack-jawed. He was breathing heavily. His heart pounded in his ears as he lowered his arm. He felt blood rush to his cheeks. The essay was meant to be intense. He wanted to invoke a different reaction from Meulin for once. He wanted her to feel what he had been trying to talk about for a sweep. He wanted to show what the riot had made him realize. He pulled the tablet to his chest tightly and looked down, frowning. 

“I just-” 

Meulin pounced on him, sending them both tumbling off of the stump. He yelled out in fear, wrapping his arms around her as she did the same. They hit the ground hard as Meulin giggled loudly in his ear. “That was purrfect!” She rolled her ‘r’s’. Porrim couldn’t figure out why, but Kankri loved it nonetheless. One more trait to define her. Right then, it made him smile despite the heart attack she had just given him. He laughed along with her and sat up. Porrim made her way over to them and chuckled as she watched Meulin beam and tell him repeatedly how amazing it was and that “he most definitely had to read it to someone else!” Kankri just nodded quietly, his cheeks turning a light red. Had it not been Meulin taking an eventual breath, Kankri most likely wouldn’t have heard the snapping of twigs behind them. He whipped around quickly, his hand flying to his hip to grab his sickles. Porrim turned as well as Meulin fell silent along with them. They stood like that for a few moments, listening for the sound of footsteps to resume. As soon as they assumed the coast to be clear, they heard a booming voice echo through the trees. 

“Keep moving! Anyone seen fucking around will be punished.” Kankri’s eyes widened as he felt a hand on his arm. Porrim whispered to them both quietly. She tugged at the fabric of his cloak. He pulled his arm away. He heard the huntress behind him gasp as a highblood broke through the trees. Kankri stumbled back, staring up at the face of the purple blood in front of him. The giant didn’t seem to notice him. Porrim grabbed Kankri’s arm tightly and pulled him backwards into her arms. Meulin pressed a hand over his mouth as he squeaked. The highblood didn’t even shift. Porrim sighed. 

As the sight unfolded in front of him, the world fell silent. 

Lowbloods walked in a straight line. Their feet were chained to the trolls in front and behind them. They varied in blood color, ranging from burgundy to olive. They all had different clothes. They all had different heights. They all had different scars. They all had the same pained look. 

One gold blood stood out, his lanky frame towering over the other children his age. Kankri stood from his hiding spot and moved towards him. His hand reached out instinctively to help the poor kid. He heard Porrim whisper-scream for him to come back, but he kept walking. The boy looked down at him, his bi-colored eyes scanning his face. Kankri tried to smile, but as soon as he did the boy pushed him away. Kankri jumped back, holding his hands up instinctively. The boy yelled and his eyes widened as he looked around. Sparks sizzled in the air around them. Highblood guards rushed over to see what the problem was. Porrim pulled Kankri back as a highblood pushed past them. The large figure grabbed the boy with the spark and pinned him down as another towered over them. The boy’s eyes brimmed with yellow as he fought against their grip. He locked eyes with Kankri through the twine and screamed. 

“Help Me!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the mini hiatus! School is picking up with midterms on the way, so I apologize in advance. However, the story is going to pick up rather quickly from here. I have a lot of chapters still planned and I can't wait to write them! Until next time, thanks for reading! ~M
> 
> (3/27) Edit: My lovelies, I have not forgotten about this story. Like I said before, midterms are picking up in school and I have been slammed with studying and work. I hope to have a chapter out this weekend (April 1), along with a short fic separate from this one. Thank you for your patience!


	6. A Runaway, A Slave, A Hunter, and A Mutant

_The embers of the fire melted into the twinkling stars above them. Kankri laid flat on his back, watching the night sky. Meulin curled next to him, one arm draped over his torso. He kept a firm grip around her shoulders and stayed still long enough to hear her breathe. As long as he could hear that much he knew that she was alive. In the silence, leaves rustled across the fire. Kankri turned to smile at a very groggy yellow blood as he sat up. The boy rubbed his eyes and then rolled them as he looked at Kankri and Meulin._

_“You two are going to make me throw up the rest of that snortbeast,” he said, sticking his tongue out in a fake gag. Kankri opened his mouth to retort, but another voice perked up._

_“Mew’re just jealous.”_

_“Of you two? You fucking wish.” Kankri pushed Meulin’s shoulder back as she tried to sit up. The boy across the flames chuckled and laid back down. Kankri shook his head and turned to kiss Meulin’s. She smiled and curled back to his shoulder. He smiled down at her and turned back to the other boy, but found a disturbing sight in his place. The boy was strung up by his arms, captured by a deep fuschia entanglement. Kankri sat up frantically, his mouth falling open. The now re-enslaved boy sparked and sputtered, lifting his head to meet Kankri’s eyes as he muttered one word._

“Run.” 

The boys’ hands were clasped tightly as the shorter of the two pulled them through the broken brush. The yellow-blooded slave ran behind him, his eyes sparking as he looked frantically around. As far as either could tell, they were safe. None of the guards had seen as Kankri slipped into the camp and picked at the chains that clanked on the psionic boy’s ankles. His mother and Meulin were still back at their own camp, surely impatiently waiting for Kankri to return. After the highbloods had passed by their camp, Kankri spent the remainder of the evening convincing his mother to let him free the slave with the spark. This boy had appeared frequently in his dreams. Their meeting was no chance. Of course, Kankri hadn’t told the boy this. He simply snuck into the camp and told him to run. 

The boy didn’t complain. 

As they broke through the treeline, Kankri and the boy stumbled forward, collapsing at the edge of the camp. Meulin squeaked and ran to Kankri while Porrim ran to assist the other. Kankri’s vision shifted in and out of focus, but he pulled himself up. Meulin propped his arm around her shoulder and frowned, but Kankri simply brushed her off. 

“We need to move. Quickly,” He said as he picked up a bag and slung it over his shoulder. Meulin and Porrim exchanged a worried glance but each grabbed a bag nonetheless. Kankri walked back over to the boy and pulled his arm around his empty shoulder. None of them knew just how long they had to run. If the guards hadn’t figured it out, they wouldn’t until the early evening. If they had already found the broken chains, they would have all of a few minutes. 

Most of Kankri’s life was spent running. Most of his early memories were of blurred trees and frantic footsteps. This time was no different. As the trees flew by, Kankri tried to focus on the people around him. His mother lead the way, jumping in a graceful manner over logs and fallen trees. Meulin ran behind him, her movements becoming almost meowbeast-like as she kept her guard on high alert. The boy on Kankri’s arm huffed and wheezed, sparks flying in every direction. Kankri tried to keep at a pace that the boy could run at, but they were running out of time. Meulin stopped dead in her tracks as she heard screams from behind them. The rest of the group followed suit, looking back towards the direction of their abandoned camp with somber faces. The boy with the spark dropped to a knee to take deep, broken breaths. Kankri rubbed his back and dropped beside him. 

“I’m sorry. I gave you no warning or explanation. I simply just-” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” The boy looked up at him, a smile plastered on his face. A soft lisp broke through his lips. “You saved my life. And, uh, I’m Mituna, by the way.” 

Porrim sighed and smiled. Meulin giggled. Kankri smiled and nodded as he held out a hand. “My name is Kankri. This is my lusus, Porrim, and my meowbeast, Meulin.” 

The boy quirked an eyebrow, looking between the two girls. “A troll lusus? A troll meowbeast?” He looked back at Kankri and shook his head. “You guys are a fucked up group, aren’t you?” 

Kankri simply smiled. “Well, it depends on how you look at it. We may be… odd. We are a group made up of a runaway, a hunter, and a mutant.” Mituna’s eyes widened. “But I suppose now we are a runaway, _a slave_ , a hunter, and a mutant.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, darlings! Sorry about the mini-hiatus. Exams have been Hell, but I’m finally working my way back into this story. Sorry about the length. The next few will be longer! I hope to fall back into my usual posting schedule as of now. As always, feedback is much appreciated! Until next time, thanks for reading! (Also, Happy Late 4/13, and Happy Easter for those who celebrate it!) ~M


	7. Night Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite what she told anyone, Meulin had her own demons.

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_“Here they are!”_

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_The crowd pushed and screamed as a guard parted the sea of trolls. Kankri felt Meulin grab his cloak and fumble for her knife. Mituna’s sparks flew between his fingertips, and Kankri could hear his mother shuffling to gather their things. They wanted to run. This wasn’t the first time they had been spotted, but he had a feeling it might be the last. As he scanned the crowd, he noticed multiple guards, all equipped with whips and clubs. They were outnumbered. As the crowd scattered, the highbloods moved in._

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_“Let’s go, Kanny!” Meulin tugged on his cloak and turned. He turned with her, only to hear the most blood curdling scream escape her lips. The club came down hard on her head, and the sudden silence was eerier than her screams. He reached for her as her limp body fell just out of reach. She never hit the ground. The world swirled to black around him as she continued falling. His own limbs felt like lead, but no matter how quickly he fell, the love of his life stayed a millimeter from his fingertips._

\-- 

Kankri no longer screamed with nightmares. His eyes would snap open, and he would often jump with a start, but he never screamed. That night was no exception. He jumped up, throwing his covers across the tent in the process. It took a moment to place where he was, but when everything clicked he collapsed back onto his mat. He placed a hand on his stomach and tried to take deep breaths. Fresh tears followed the dried trails left before them as he tried to shake every image from his mind. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t stop them. The nightmares kept coming. Every now and again, he would have a nice dream. They always involved his family and a calm setting full of laughter, but those occurrences were about as rare in his unconscious as they were in his conscience. 

As he ran a hand through his hair and took one last broken breath, the sleeping figure next to him suddenly stirred. A mass of hair shifted to show one blue eye full of exhaustion and fury. Kankri forced a smile as Mituna mumbled something incoherent. 

“What was that?” Kankri whispered with a smirk. Mituna grumbled and lifted his face just enough for Kankri to hear something about relieving Meulin from watch before letting his face fall straight back into his pillow. Within seconds, he was snoring again. Kankri sighed, figuring he might as well let the olive blood get some sleep. Gog knew he couldn’t go back to sleep anyways. He pulled himself out of the tent with his blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, not-so-accidentally kicking the psionic boy on his way out. He heard a grunt followed by a not-so-quiet ‘fuck you’ as he slipped through the frayed material. 

The small fire in front of him had fallen to soft embers, indicating what he had already assumed. With her head balanced in one hand and her knife clutched in the other, Meulin had fallen asleep on their makeshift watch bench. In the soft glow, he could see her eyes moving behind her eyelids. He clicked his tongue and smiled. She was dreaming. Her ears moved, subconsciously trying to catch any sort of sound in the darkness around her. Kankri couldn’t hold back a chuckle as he walked towards her. If the past sweep had taught him anything, it was that he shouldn’t disturb her sleep without taking precautionary measures beforehand. Without making any more noise than a scuttlebeast, he quickly tugged the knife from her hand and jumped back just in time to avoid the swift swipe of her claws. Her eyes were so wild, they appeared animalistic. He tossed the knife aside and grabbed her wrists as she thrashed and fought against his grip. 

“Meulin,” he said as calmly as he could with a girl with equal -- if not more -- strength than him fighting against his grip. As his words fell on deaf ears, he sighed and wrapped his arms around her, pinning her hands to her sides. “Meulin, it’s Kankri. You’re alright.” Some dream, he thought with a grimace. As much as she refused to admit it, Meulin struggled with her own demons. She would never speak of her nightmares to him, so he had no idea what she was facing. Was she in fear of her life? Was she watching someone else? Who was to say. Whatever she feared, it was a terrible sight to see. Kankri rubbed her arms as she relaxed into his embrace. She was breathing heavily, and he could feel tears soaking through his tunic. Once he knew she was safe and at no risk to herself or him, he loosened his grip and moved his hands to rest on her back. He leaned back against the log and let out a sigh as he allowed his eyes to slip shut. Meulin’s sobs fell to mere whimpers and then the forest faded back to silence. Kankri found his fingers rubbing small circles into her back, but, as if she could read his mind, she sighed contently as soon as he noticed. They sat in silence for what seemed like hours before the small girl hesitantly broke the silence. 

“Why are you awake?” Kankri shrugged. He felt the weight on his chest shift and felt her gaze before he opened a single eye. She was propped up, her chin resting lazily in her palm. She cocked her head to the side and gave him an ‘I’m not buying it’ look. He had to internally chuckle at her cuteness. Even if the lie wasn’t so obvious, she had a way of reading him like a book. She wouldn’t admit it, but he often caught her studying him. He would catch her eye, but she would quickly move about her task as if nothing had happened. Later in the day, she would either approach him with exactly what he needed (Sometimes it was a hug. Sometimes it was materials.) or he would just happen to find something laying on his pillow. She knew him better than his own mother, and he almost found it odd. 

He didn’t, though, because he did the same thing. 

“I just couldn’t sleep,” he said with another shrug. Meulin hummed as Kankri closed his eye again. 

“Nightmare?” She mumbled. Kankri nodded. “Me too.” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” In answer, Meulin simply shifted again and laid her head back on his chest. As if she just realized what she was doing, she bolted upright again. This startled Kankri, causing him to jump as well. He opened his eyes to see Meulin pushing herself off of him, her face bright olive. 

“Sorry, sorry.” Kankri tilted his head as she had done to him and smiled. 

“Meulin, I don’t mind,” he said. Meulin shook her head and stood up. 

“Are you taking over watch? I probably should go to bed. Sorry for falling asleep on the job.” She kicked firewood into the embers and shifted it around, sparking a flame on the broken wood. She blatantly avoided Kankri’s gaze, even as she turned to walk to her tent. “Goodnight then.” 

“Can you really sleep?” As soon as the words fell from his mouth, Kankri regretted them. Meulin whipped her head around, giving him a fierce glare. He held his hands up in surrender, and she swiftly walked into her and Porrim’s shared tent. Kankri watched her go before tossing his head back and groaning. Smooth, Kankri. He could almost hear Mituna’s voice when he heard about this one. He couldn’t help it. He knew that every time he woke from a nightmare, that was the end of it. There was no chance of him going back to sleep. He figured it was that way for everyone. 

In a sense, he hoped that she would have stayed. He wanted her to sleep, of course, and he wanted more than anything for her to feel better. There was something inside of him, though, that wished she could fill his company for the next few hours. He could deal with being alone, but he longed for her presence. He messed with the fabric of his tunic, frowning at the now cold spot on his chest. Oh, why had she moved? Her being there felt comfortable; it felt right. It felt as though she were meant to be there. He shook his head and laughed at himself. This girl had long filled his dreams, and in a position of a matesprit. His dreams were not merely dreams, either. They seemed to be prophecies. Did that mean that his feelings were justified? These confusing yet wonderfully obvious feelings for this girl that he had known for sweeps seemed ridiculous. Considering most of his dreams had come true, though, was this one destined to as well? 

Before he had time to consider it any longer, the opening to the girls’ tent flew open, and a walking bundle of blankets waltzed out. Kankri sat stunned as it made its way over to him and plopped down beside him. The bundle pushed the blankets back to reveal a mass of black hair and horns. Meulin shifted the blankets around to lay solely around her body. Kankri moved to speak, but a grey hand darted out and moved his arm aside to lay her head on his chest. He closed his mouth again and looked down at the sight before him. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” were the only words that she spoke as she buried her face in his chest and the bundle of blankets. He chuckled softly and laid his arm around her waist. In unison, they both sighed. Kankri shifted down to gaze up at the stars, a smile planted on his lips. Screw his dreams. Whatever this was, or was meant to be, he was happy. 

And all that mattered was that she seemed to be, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! How long has it been? A few months? Yeah... Sorry about that! A lot of stuff with family and school came up, and I've spent weeks trying to get my life back together. Thanks to a twelve hour car drive, I was manage to write at least a little bit. It's not much, but it's something. I wanted to get to the cute stuff, along with some new story elements which will be popping up in the next chapter. Thank you to everyone who stuck around this long, and hopefully I'll see you again later this week. As always, thanks for reading! ~M


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